


Gary

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Just a spot of humor to combat the angstfest that was previously posted.





	1. Chapter 1

The redhead is here again tonight.  I used to think she lived here, but the others tell me she doesn't live here.  I'm not so sure about that.  I mean, she's here an awful lot.  I'm new, but I wasn’t born yesterday.  She doesn't come with a suitcase or bag, and she's here all hours of the day and night, so I think she must live here at least some of the time.

 

By my estimate, I've been here a week, and the redhead has been been here most nights.  She must leave after I've gone to sleep though, because she’s never been here for breakfast.  I still think she lives here, though.  Maybe she eats somewhere else.  Maybe there's another way out I don't know about.  It's kind of hard to tell.

 

I like it here.  It’s a lot nicer than my other place.  At the old place I had about fifty roommates.  Here, I only have four.  It’s nice and calm.  The others tell me about things I've missed and how different it used to be.  They say it's much nicer now.  They tell me stories about loud arguments and guns and glass breaking.  A lot of it sounds suspicious to me and I think they're just trying to scare the new guy.    

 

So, the redhead and the tall guy are watching that golf movie again, though why he even bothered to turn on the TV is beyond me.  There's not even any popcorn or beer this time, so it's not like he's trying to keep the pretense anymore.  It was so obvious by the way they kept looking at each other and brushing their hands together in the popcorn bowl that they were never interested in the movie to begin with.  

 

The redhead keeps laughing - she laughs a lot when she's here and the others tell me that's new too.  Again, I think they're just messing with me because I can't imagine her unhappy, but that's what they tell me.  She laughs whenever he kisses her and he laughs back and they both look very happy all the time.

 

Just as I said, I don't know why he bothered with the TV.  That gopher hasn't even finished dancing yet and he's already got her under him on the couch.  She's laughing and her legs are wrapped around his hips.  She pulls his t-shirt off and he sits up and unbuttons her blouse, but that's all I see before he picks her up and carries her out of the room.  In the shadow by his bedroom door I catch a glimpse of her ankles crossed at the small of his back and their laughter when he bumps into the wall, but then they disappear and I settle in to watch the golf movie for at least the fourth time.

 

I manage to stay awake for the whole thing and the screen goes blue and then snowy after it ends.  It's quiet and the sound of bubbles starts to lull me to sleep, but then suddenly she's back.  I watch her pick the t-shirt up from the floor and slip it on - I guess that's why she doesn't need a suitcase, she can wear his clothes if she has to.  She pulls the collar up to her nose and breathes deeply before she crosses the room and turns off the TV and then it's dark, save for the blue glow from my place.

 

She comes over to my corner and the others are sleeping, but I swim up to get a better look at her.  She's pretty and she seems nice.  She leans down and her blue eyes meet mine as she smiles.  I get a little embarrassed and swish my tail around, but I blow her a kiss to be friendly.  

 

“Hey there,” she whispers, touching her finger gently against the tank.  

 

I swim closer and flutter my fin against the glass.  Just then, he comes up behind her and she smiles again as he wraps his arms around her and slides his hands up her, or rather  _ his _ , shirt.

 

“Thought you were asleep,” she says.  “Who's this guy?”

 

“That's Gary,” he says, his lips puckering against her shoulder like he's blowing her kisses too, but there are no bubbles in the outside place.

 

“When'd you get him?”

 

“Like a week ago.  Last Saturday.”

 

“Last Saturday?”  She leans to the side a little to look up at him.  “How come I didn't notice?”

 

His hands move at her chest under the shirt and he smirks at her when her eyes droop and she squirms.  “We've been a little busy,” he says.

 

“Mm.” 

 

“Will you stay tonight?”

 

“Mulder, you know…”

 

“I don’t know anything except that you should stay.  I want you to stay, Scully.  Please.”

 

She turns around, presses herself against him and wraps her arms around his neck.  He crosses his arms across her back and closes his eyes as they sway back and forth for a long time.  Then, she steps away and holds her hand out to him.  She looks back at me and touches her finger to the glass again.

 

“Night, Gary,” she says, and she takes him back to the room beyond the door.

 

So, I’ve learned two things tonight.  One, I guess she really doesn’t live here.  And two, my name is Gary!

 

The End

 

 

****


	2. More Gary

It’s a sad day when Cleopatra dies.  Lois won’t come out of the castle she’s so upset.  They were best friends after all.  Mike and Joe, they’ve been here the longest, they tell me that Cleo and Lois arrived together.

 

The redhead finds Cleo when she comes to give us breakfast and she cries harder than I’ve ever seen anyone cry.  She can’t seem to stop.  She gasps and clutches her stomach as she sobs.  At first I thought my eyes were distorting things when I noticed the bump that got bigger and bigger as time went on, but Joe told me it was a spawning bump.

 

She’s been pretty sad lately and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile.  Not since the tall man has been here.  I don’t know where he went, but I wish he’d come back and make her happy again.  It can’t be good for the spawn to be so sad all the time.

 

The redhead takes Cleopatra away in a little cup and when she comes back, she isn’t crying anymore.  She gives us breakfast and while Mike and Joe eat, and Lois stays in the castle, I wave my fins at her to try to bring her closer.  I tell her not to be so sad, but I don’t think she can hear my little bubbles.

 

“Hey, Gary,” she says.  “Not hungry today?”

 

I shake my tail at her.  She nods.

 

“I know,” she says.  “It hurts.  When they can’t back anymore, it hurts.”

 

She starts to cry again and puts her arm down under her belly.  I blow her a kiss and tell her not to cry.

 

“I should move you guys,” she says.  “Make it easier on myself.  I keep telling everyone I keep coming here because I have to feed the fish.  I have to feed the fish.”

 

I bob my head up and down.  She’s very good at feeding us.  Never missed a meal.  Always makes sure we all get some of the flakes.

 

“Not until the baby’s born,” she says.  “I want him to know his father.  I want him to smell the leather couch and feel the warmth of the lamp in the hallway and lay in the bed with him and see you and know this is who his daddy was.  I can’t...I can’t let go.”

 

It dawns on me that maybe the tall man isn’t coming back.  Just like Cleopatra.  And the redhead is sad like Lois is sad and this is her version of hiding in the castle.  I bob my head up and down in understanding and she takes her hand away from her belly to place it against the tank.

 

She walks away and then takes a few moments to ease down onto the couch and curls up on her side.  I watch her for a bit.  If the tall man were here, he would cover her with that blanket that’s folded off to one side, but he’s not here.  Eventually, I turn around and head for the castle.  I want to see if Lois is alright.

 

The End


	3. Even More Gary

The tall guy is back, but the redhead hasn't been here all that much.  They don't seem to be very happy with each other right now, which is strange because she wanted him to come back so much.  Things just get awkward when she comes over (it's pretty obvious she doesn't live here now, even to me).

 

When the redhead was here alone, I thought sometimes she might be the saddest person I ever met.  But, now that the tall guy is here alone, he's so much sadder.  He just sits on his couch and stares at the blank TV most of the time.  It's very disconcerting.  I feel badly for him and when he comes to feed us, I try to be extra alert for him and let him know I'm here if he wants to talk.  He doesn't talk though, just watches us and sighs and goes back to the couch.  Mike and Joe tell me to give it up, that the tall guy has never been very chatty with them, but I won't stop trying.

 

It's late and I'm dozing when the redhead shows up.  She must've let herself in (she still has a key, even though she doesn't live here, so you see why it's confusing?) because the tall guy is still asleep on the couch.  She bends over him for a moment and touches his face and he jumps so high he startles both her and I.  

 

“Sorry,” she says.

 

“Jesus, Scully,” he answers.  “What are you doing here?  Is everything alright?  Is it...is something wrong with...your baby?”

 

“No.  Yes.  I don't know.”

 

He pushes himself up from the couch.  He looks panicked.  Just like Lois when someone taps on our tank and she hides in the castle.  

 

“Should you be at the hospital?” he asks.  “Should I call someone?”

 

“You're my someone,” she says, looking down towards her feet.  Her hands are on her belly.  His arms are crossed high over his chest like he's hugging himself.

 

They don't say anything for a long time and it makes me a little nervous so I pace at the side of the tank, waiting.  She sits down by gripping the back of the couch and then leaning back until she's seated.  He just stands there, hugging himself.

 

“You haven't asked me anything,” she says suddenly.  “And I know you must have questions.”

 

“If I've been gone for six months, why do my sheets still smell like you?”

 

“I was taking care of the fish.”  She looks over at me and I wave my fin at her to say hello, but she doesn't wave back. 

 

“From my bed?”

 

“I wasn't aware it would bother you.”

 

“It does.”

 

She blinks at him and her eyes widen just a little.  “I'll go.”

 

“No.”  He lets his arms fall to his sides and then he sits down beside her, not close like they used to sit, touching all over, but far away where he’s not touching her at all.  “I just don’t know what you want me to say, Scully.”

 

“You weren’t gone for six months, you know.  You were gone for five months, two weeks, and three days.”

 

“Well, in some ways it feels like years.”

 

“I'm seven and a half months pregnant, Mulder.”

 

“Did you know?  Before I went to Bellefleur, did you know?”

 

“No.”

 

“When and how did this happen?”

 

She tries to smile a little, but it looks hard for her to do.  “I'm assuming one of those nights we were pretending to watch Caddyshack.”

 

“But,  _ how _ ?  It was supposed to be impossible.”

 

She looks down at her belly and runs her hands over the top of the bump.  “I don't know.  I've had...you can't imagine how many tests I've had.  Everything comes back normal.”

 

“And that's okay with you?”

 

“You're the one who told me not to give up on a miracle, Mulder.  I'm trying not to question it.”

 

“But you question  _ everything _ , Scully.”

 

“I know. But, I don't want to.”  She slides forward and pushes herself up from the couch.  I get excited because she’s coming closer to the tank and we haven’t talked in awhile so I dart up to the top to shake my fins.

 

The tall man just sits there as she peers in at me and bends her finger a few times to say hello.  I blow a few bubbles and pucker my lips in a kiss.  I’ve missed her.  Suddenly, her face pinches up tight and she puts a hand on her stomach and leans over slightly.

 

“Scully?”

 

“I’m fine,” she breathes.

 

“Are you sure?”  He jumps up, puts an arm over her and touches her elbow.  I swim back and forth in front of the tank, trying to assess the situation.  She doesn’t quite look like she’s in pain, just uncomfortable.

 

She nods and blows out a strong breath.  “Braxton Hicks.”

 

“You’re...scaring Gary.”

 

I’m not scared, but I am concerned.

 

She looks up at me.  “Sorry, Gary.”

 

I wave my fins at her.  No need to apologize.

 

“You’re probably just tired,” he says.  “Maybe you should lay down.”

 

“Did you only want to try to help me have a baby when you thought it was impossible?”

 

He opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything.  He looks like me when I’m blowing kisses, all air and no sound.  “No,” he finally says, and he almost sounds angry, but it’s a soft anger.

 

They stare at each other and I can see a conversation happening in their eyes, but they’re not saying anything at all.  She relaxes and he relaxes and then he lets go of her, but his arms are slow to move away.  Her eyes close slowly and stay closed for just a moment before they slowly open again.

 

“I think I will lie down,” she says and then glances over at me.  “Good night, Gary.”

 

I blow her another kiss goodnight.  She doesn’t walk away though, she stays looking up at the tall man for quite some time and then moves close so that she brushes against him as she passes by.  I see their fingers touch, but barely.  His curve towards hers, but she’s already out of reach.  She disappears into the bedroom and he stands where he is and then crosses his arms like he’s hugging himself again.

 

I want to tell him not to let her walk away like that.  I can tell she’s still sad, but he’s sad too.  I just don’t really know why they’re so sad.  They should be happy they’re together again.  It takes him some time, but then he slowly walks to the bedroom door and stops there for a moment or two before he disappears as well.

 

I wait up for awhile in case one of them comes back out so I can make sure things are okay, but they don’t come out, so I go to sleep.

 

The End

 


	4. Still More Gary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary makes a move

In case there was any doubt that the redhead lives somewhere else, I can now say with certainty she does because we live in the somewhere else now too.  Let me back up a bit.

 

The last time we talked, the tall guy and the redhead were unhappy and we didn’t see the redhead much, but that changed after the night she stayed over.  She started coming around again, just like she used to, but things still seemed awkward between them for some reason.  They didn't watch (or pretend to watch) movies anymore, but sat and talked quietly.  Too quietly to hear, most of the time.  

 

They also argued quite a bit, not loudly, but loud enough.  We didn’t understand most of it, but it sounded like the tall man was afraid of something happening to the spawn once it hatched and she didn’t want to talk about it.  Every time he tried, it led to raised voices, then whispers, then tears, then long hugs, then more quiet talking that we couldn’t hear.  

 

One time, during one of the arguments, she pulled a long cord out of a bag and gave it to the tall guy.  He put the cord in his ears and she pressed the other end against her belly.  Whatever he heard made him smile really big, and then he cried.  She touched his face and he held her hand against his cheek for a long time.  They didn’t argue so much after that, but she brought the cord out a lot when they were sitting together and he would close his eyes and listen while she held his hand.

 

We could tell the day the spawn was hatched because the tall man buzzed around the apartment like he couldn’t sit still.  He burst through the door in the middle of the night and started packing a bag, muttering to himself the whole time.  “My son,” he kept saying.  “He’s  _ my _ son.”

 

After that, the little man with the glasses came by to feed us for a few days and then the tall man and the redhead came back together, with the spawn.  I swam over to the side of the tank to get a better look when she sat down on the couch with the little spawn to her chest, but it just looked like a red, wrinkly, bald thing to me.  They both looked at it like he was the most fascinating creature on the planet, though.  I made a nice splash to remind them that I could do a backflip anytime I wanted and I could swim a lap around the tank in under five seconds.  That’s way more impressive than being bald and wrinkly, I think.

 

The day they brought the spawn over was the last day we saw the tall guy.  I don’t know where he went, but not too long after, the redhead came back with the spawn and a brunette lady and the spawn sat in a little basket while they took away all the things in the apartment.  We were put into little plastic bags and the next time we saw our tank, it was in a different place with a different window and a different view.  It didn’t take long to figure out we now lived with the redhead.

 

I don’t know how long we’ve lived here, but long enough that the spawn isn’t so bald or red or wrinkly anymore.  It used to be pretty noisy, waking us all up in the middle of the night with its squawking, but it doesn’t do that too much anymore.  Every time it make a sound though, Lois hides in the castle because her nerves can’t take it.  Mike and Joe just ignore it.  They tell me to just wait, soon it will get bigger and then it’ll bang on our tank and try to put its fingers in our water, but I think they’re just jaded.

 

I happen to like the little spawn.  It’s pretty easy to entertain.  Sometimes, the redhead puts it in a little seat by the tank and I’ll do backflips for it to make it laugh.  When I wave my fins at it, it waves its arms.  If I shake my tail, it kicks its feet.  Sometimes, I swear it’s telling me to do it.  Even though I’ve never heard it speak, I can hear its voice in my head saying, “Gary, flip, Gary swim, Gary jump.”  Impossible, I know, but that’s what it seems like.

 

Late at night, when just our tank is glowing, sometimes the red head will come and sit by us while the spawn sleeps in her arms.  She smiles whenever she looks at it and touches its squishy cheeks a lot.  She hums to it and pats it gently.  She smells its neck and rubs its back.

 

“Mommy loves you,” she says.  “And Daddy loves you and misses you.  So much.  He wants to be here, but he can’t.  We’ll see him soon, though.  I don’t know when, but soon.”

 

The spawn dreams about me doing backflips and of the tall man’s face and of the brunette lady playing a clapping game with it and of the redhead’s necklace where it dangles, golden and shiny at her chest.  I don’t know how I know this, but I can see the things it does when it sleeps and when it’s close and I’m filled with a happy, warm feeling.

 

The spawn opens its eyes while the redhead pats it and looks over her shoulder at me.  He smiles.  “Night night, Gary,” I hear, even though he doesn’t make a sound.

 

I blow him some bubbles back.  “Night night, Spawn.”

 

The End


	5. With Love, Gary

We still don’t know exactly what happened.  Only that one day, a lady none of us knew came and took the spawn and it never came back.  The redhead was more distraught about it than when the tall man was gone.  She cried loudly and often.  When I say loud, I mean we could hear her from another room without actually seeing her.  On a few occasions, when she finally came out of her room, face wet and eyes red, she might find a thing that belonged to the spawn (a blanket, a bottle, a toy), which she would clutch to her chest, start to sob, and then go back in her room.

 

The nice brunette lady that used to come over and play with the spawn took care of us while the redhead was so sad.  She made sure we were fed and told us not to worry.  We worried anyway.  The tall man was gone.  The spawn was gone.  And then, the redhead went away one night and never came back.  

 

Just like when the tall man left and we moved to the somewhere else with the redhead, we were packed into little bags and boxes and taken to another somewhere else.  And now we live with the nice brunette lady.  

 

I say we, but I’m actually alone now.  Lois couldn’t take all the anxiety of the redhead’s sadness and her subsequent disappearance and she went to sleep in her castle one night and didn’t wake up.  Joe was the next to go, the oldest of all of us and the one who had been in the tank the longest.  He had been complaining that his fins had been hurting and he couldn’t swim as fast anymore.  He turned over one day and just floated away.  After that, Mike became angry and mean.  He spit rocks at the side of the tank and he grouched about the silence and that he had no one to talk to, but he also grouched about the noise of the bubbles and the way the little ship in the corner bobbed up and down.  One day, when the brunette lifted the lid of our tank to feed us, he jumped out.  I’ve been alone ever since.

 

I think I've lived with the nice brunette lady for a lot longer than I did with the tall man or the redhead.  That's what it seems like anyway.  It's nice here, but very quiet.  I can actually sleep at night, which is nice.  I have the castle to myself and I play a fun game with the bobbing ship where I chase the bubbles as it rises up to the top and then I swim down to the bottom before it comes back.  The nice brunette lady also got me some coral in a very lovely shade of aquamarine.  Sometimes, she asks me if I’d like some new friends, but I shake my fins no at her.  I’ve gotten used to the peace.

 

I do miss the spawn, though.  And I miss the redhead and the tall guy.  In my dreams sometimes, I think I hear the spawn saying “swim to me, Gary, swim to me.”  It doesn’t seem likely that I’ll see any of them again except in my dreams.  Especially since my fins have been hurting lately and I can’t swim around the tank in five seconds anymore.  In the end, I only wish I’d gotten to say goodbye.

 

The End

 


	6. Gary's Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue

I’m different.  I’ve been different my whole life.  I’ve always known it, and I’m okay with it.  It’s not about my red hair and it’s not about being adopted either.  I realized pretty early on that knowing things without being told and dreaming things that come true and somehow being able to hear the thoughts of someone else doesn’t happen to everyone.  It doesn’t happen to anyone, actually, but it happens to me.

 

When I knew it was time, I wished my adoptive parents well, got into the truck, and headed east.  I knew exactly where to go.  I don’t know how I know these things and I don’t know why, but the fact is, I know.  I’ve stopped questioning it long ago.

 

The only thing I don’t know, when I get out of the truck and walk up the long driveway, is what to say.  As I near the porch, the screen door swings open and the tall man steps out first like he’s guarding the door.  The redhead follows, standing so close to him they almost look like one person.  But, there they are.  My parents.  They look a little different than how I dreamed them to be, but my dreams are fifteen years old.  I’d still recognize them anywhere.

 

For the first time in maybe as long as I can remember, I can’t hear their thoughts as much as I can feel them.  Usually, it comes to me like a murmur or a whisper, and I can concentrate and listen, or I can tune it out.  Whatever they’re thinking, it comes at me as emotion.  Mostly, what I feel is fear - not my own, theirs.  There’s a mixture of hope and disbelief in there as well.

 

“Who are you?” the tall man asks, his voice like a   warning.

 

I only have one concrete memory of this man, my father, but it's enough.  I see his face, looming above mine as he stares into my eyes and looks me over like he's trying to memorize every detail.  He speaks to me in whispers, telling me that he loves me, that he'll be back soon, that he won't be like his own father, that he'll keep me safe no matter what.  And then he says to me, emphatically and urgently, that it doesn't matter where I came from, I'm  _ his son _ . 

 

“Mulder…” the redhead whispers, grabbing his wrist.  She thinks he’s going to scare me away.  Her fingers jump to her throat and she scratches at her neck like she’s looking for something.

 

I remember a necklace, gold and shiny, dangling in front of me as she leans over to kiss my head.  I remember the feel of her hair on the tips of my fingers.  I remember her voice and a song about a bullfrog.

 

“Can I put my bag down?” I ask.

 

“What’s in it?” the man asks, still a warning.  His tension hits me in the chest and takes me back a step.

 

“You can take it and open it yourself.”  I ease my backpack off my shoulders and carefully hold it up towards him.

 

The man takes it, holds it gingerly as though it might be dangerous, but unzips it while the redhead squeezes his arm and stares at me.  The plastic jar with my fish is at the top and he pulls that out and holds it up to inspect it.  My poor fish is frantic, darting back and forth in his jar.  I soothe him with my mind voice, telling him to calm down, it's ok.  

 

“What do you need with a fish?” the man asks.

 

“He’s my best friend,” I answer.  

 

The tall man and the redhead glance at each other.  I wonder if they have mind voices too.  Is it a family trait?  No one else has been able to hear my mind voice.  I test it out a little to see if it works.

 

_ I won my first fish at the county fair in one of those games you throw the ping pong balls into the jars.   _

 

The man looks at me, but the redhead has taken my backpack and is rifling through it very carefully.  

 

“Did you say something?” he asks.

 

_ I was six. _

 

The man squints, looking at me critically, but not harshly.  I’m fairly certain he heard me, but not her.

 

“It's just clothes,” the redhead whispers, zipping my backpack back up.

 

“And the fish,” the man adds, lifting the jar up again.

 

“I'm from Wyoming,” I say, just to fill the silence that follows.  “My adoptive parents have a farm there.  I rebuilt an old truck last year by myself and my...Jim, my adoptive father, he said I could keep it if I could get it running again, and I did, so…”  I stop talking.  I’m feeling an oppressive weight of guilt pulling at me.  It’s coming from the redhead.  “Um…so I drove...”

 

“You're just a kid,” the man says.

 

“I'm fifteen.  I have my license.”

 

The redhead takes a tentative step forward and then down the first two steps of the porch.  She extends her arm to return the backpack, but she isn't quite close enough and I take a step forward to reach for it.  That's when I see a memory in my mind, but it isn't mine.  In my dreams, I remember her face as I'm being carried away and a door closes between us.  In this memory, she's watching me being taken away and then she drops to her hands and knees and cries over the floor.  

 

It’s unbelievable how easy it is to feel what she feels.  Her arms ache for the weight of a baby that isn’t here.  I've never felt anything quite so strongly from anyone before.  I've never been sick a day in my life, but I think this is what sick might feel like.  Pain in the gut, lightheadedness, like my heart is being twisted.

 

I have to bend slightly to catch my breath and I put a hand on my chest.  The redhead immediately moves down the remaining steps and puts her hand on my forehead.  It makes me weak in the knees.

 

“Are you alright?” she asks.

 

“I'm fine,” I say.  

 

“Scully,” the man says, his feet shifting uneasily up on the porch.

 

“Please,” I say.  “Stop...stop thinking about the day I went away.”

 

She looks startled, and there’s a hitch in her next breath, but then her brows come together.  “Excuse me?”  

 

“Your guilt is crushing my chest.  It wasn't your fault.  You did what you needed to do.”  I'm feeling like I might fall over and so I grab onto her shoulder to keep myself up.

 

“Scully, get in the house,” the man says.  He drops my jar to reach behind his back.

 

“No,” I cry, focusing all my energy on the jar, keeping it from falling to the ground and upsetting my fish more than he already is.  The concentration it takes makes me sweat, but the jar stays hovering by the man’s knees before I bring it towards me.  When it is close enough to take, I let go of it with my mind and hug it to my chest.

 

The man is pointing a gun at me, but I know he won't fire it.  I still can't get in touch with what he's thinking, but I know he doesn't want to shoot me.  And then the redhead steps in front of me, between us.

 

“Mulder, put the gun down,” she says.

 

“Scully, you don’t know what you’re doing.  Step away.”

 

“I  _ do _ know, Mulder.  Put the gun down.”

 

“Did you see what he just did?”

 

“Yes, I did.  I know what our son is capable of, Mulder.  Put the gun down.”

 

I feel the struggle it takes for him to lower his weapon, but his trust in her overrides his reticence.  He’s still guarded though.  On edge.

 

The redhead turns to me and I straighten.  She has to lift her chin to look up at me, I'm a few inches taller.  Her feelings still distract me.  She wants to touch me again.  She doesn't quite believe this is real.

 

“I didn’t come here to upset you,” I say, moving my eyes from her to him.

 

“Why did you come here?” he asks.

 

“It’s hard to explain.  I have these dreams and then there are things that I just know.  You need me for something.  Maybe not yet, but soon.”

 

And then I hear his voice, clear as day, as emphatic and urgent as I remember him calling me his son.   _ We've needed you for fifteen years _ .  

 

Suddenly, he comes down from the porch and it occurs to me that the painful longing that I was overcome with may not have been coming from her at all, but from him.  It radiates through me again the closer he gets, but I stay still, not letting it take over me this time.  She looks up at him nervously.  He lets her take his gun and then he takes the jar from me, holds it up, peers inside.

 

“I used to have fish,” he says.  “A long time ago.”

 

“There was a fish that used to play with me when I was a baby,” I say.  “In a tank with a blue light and a spaceship that bobbed up and down.”

 

“You can’t possibly remember that,” she whispers.

 

“His name was Gary.”

 

“What’s this guy’s name?” he asks.

 

“Gary Five.”  I use my mind voice to speak to Gary.   _ Flip, Gary.  Blow kisses _ .

 

“He can hear you?” the man asks, after Gary does his tricks.

 

_ Can you hear me? _  I return, with my mind.

_ Yes _ .

 

The pain trying to push into my chest stabs at me with a little more intensity.  I don’t think it will go away unless I do something about it.

 

“You can say no,” I start.  “But, would it be okay if I give you a hug?”

 

An awkward silence prevails and I hold my breath.  I’m a little afraid he’s going to drop the jar again, but then she takes it out of his hand and gives him a nudge.  He hesitates, but then puts his arms around me and I breathe a sigh of relief against his chest as the ache that’s been clawing at me melts away.  He’s crying silently, but I can still hear him, clear as day.

 

_ I don’t care where you came from, you’re my son.  My son _ .

 

The End


End file.
